Loathing
by lupuscarmen13
Summary: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy hate each other. So when they are put in the same dorm room their eighth year (there wasn't enough room with the seventh years), the fireworks are spectacular. One shot.


**LOATHING**

**Based on the songs "What is this Feeling?" and very loosely "Popular" from Wicked.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><em>Dearest father and mummy,<em>

_ There has been some...confusion about the rooming for the eighth year here at Hogwarts. Of course, I'll rise above it, but you see...my roommate is a rather unusually annoying and stupid lion and altogether impossible to allude to. You see...it's Potter. _Potter!

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><p><em> Dear Ron,<em>

_ I know you're busy with early Auror training and all (you go mate!), so I hope you get a chance to read this before Christmas. Anyway, it turns out they are putting the eighth years in a separate dorm so the seventh years have a place to sleep. But here's the crazy thing- they're mixing the houses. And you won't believe who in Merlin's name they've put me with._

_ I'll give you a hint: he's blond._

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><p>The door to room 3 (<em>Malfoy and Potter<em>) swung open with a loud creak as Harry Potter entered the room. His jet black hair was plastered across his dark face and a broom over his shoulder. Malfoy looked up from where he was writing, a scowl on his face.

Harry glared back.

"Potter," said Malfoy.

"Malfoy," said Harry, setting down the broom on his desk. He wiped a hand against his sweaty face, his raggedy shirt showing holes in the armpits and sides.

"For Merlin's sake, Potter!" Malfoy said irritably. Harry looked up, one eyebrow raised.

"What?" he asked, frowning. He took a subtle sniff at his pits.

"Those rags you call clothes," Malfoy said with a sneer. "I loathe them."

Harry glared at him. "Like your voice?" He smirked at Malfoy's squeak. "What does it matter to you anyway?"

"I have to look at it," said Malfoy dryly.

Harry rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Then don't," he replied, unbuttoning the shirt to reveal a black t-shirt, also oversized.

"Do you have any decent clothing?" Malfoy exclaimed in frustration. "Merlin's beard, you'd think someone as famous as you would dress like a normal human being!"

"Why does it _matter_?" Harry said, his cheeks turning red.

Malfoy made a disgusted noise.

"Impossible." With that, Malfoy crawled into bed and yanked the curtains closed.

Harry rubbed his temples and switched into a different, non-sweaty shirt and quickly vacated the awkward silence of the room.

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><p>Harry dropped his head against the table, groaning.<p>

"It's not as bad as it seems-" Hermione tried, her hand resting lightly on Harry's shoulder.

"The paper's calling me the next dark lord!" Harry moaned.

"Again?" Ginny and Neville said together.

Harry nodded silently.

"You just can't win, can you?" said Dean, shaking his head.

"Why, isn't it the minority squad!" a gritty and low voice said. Harry looked up to see Connor Rasmussen, a sixth year muggle-raised Gryffindor.

"Sod off, Rasmussen," Ginny said, glaring at the tall boy.

Rasmussen leered at her and opened his mouth when Professor McGonagall appeared out of nowhere. "Is there trouble here?"

"No ma'am," said Rasmussen charmingly, backing away from Ginny's furiously glare and McGonagall's stern stare. "I was just complimenting Miss Granger on her hair this fine morning."

McGonagall stared at Rasmussen for one long moment, before releasing him. "Alright."

Rasmussen walked away, a smirk on his lips. McGonagall gave the group at nod and walked away.

Hermione's lips were tight as she glared after Rasmussen. "I can't believe him! He's so-"

"I know," Harry said, his eyes narrowed. "He rivals my old neighbors in prejudice. He hasn't beat out Uncle Vernon yet, though."

Neville shook his head. "I hope that kind of prejudice never reaches the wizarding world," he said. "We have enough problems with magical bloodlines."

Harry let his head drop against the table again.

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><p>"FINE!"<p>

"FINE!"

Harry flopped onto his bed and glared at the ceiling.

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><p><em>Ron,<em>

_ I hate him! My god, he's so- and I-_

_ Every little thing he does makes me want to scream! _

_ Any advice?_

_ Oh, and I'm glad to hear about that O! Is it true that..._

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><p><em> Father,<em>

_ My attempts to get Potter out of my room have been for naught. He is unfortunately stuck in this room unless we try to legitimately kill each other. Every time I argue with him, my pulse races and I want to scream. I loathe him. _

_ Please, please help me. You have some contacts still, right?_

_ ..._

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><p>"You make my flesh crawl," Harry snarled, resisting the urge to go for his wand.<p>

"At least I don't have to worry about being killed by the school's populace," Malfoy sneered, his skin pale against his fancy, dark sweater. Outside, the rain was lashing the windows.

Harry glared at the Malfoy scion. "What are you talking about?"

"At least in Slytherin, I seem to be a bit of martyr, being stuck withyou. I even overheard a little plot about saving me from the lion's den. Something about not wanting such a prominent Slytherin near a blooming Gryffindor dark lord."

Harry made a disgusted noise. "I'm not a dark lord!"  
>"Of course you aren't," Malfoy said, waving off the comment. "You are far too lionish to be a lord at all."<p>

From there on, the argument only escalated...

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><p>Harry and Malfoy glared at each other, mouths firmly shut.<p>

Hermione and Neville were trying to hide their laughter behind their hands, but Ginny wasn't so considerate. Her laughter rang through the hallway as the hand-linked roommates struggled to keep the horrendously off-pitch singing from spilling through their lips.

"That's what happens when you start fighting in the middle of Transfiguration class," Dean said wisely, a smirk on his face. "You get cursed."

Harry stupidly opened his mouth, and a stream of musical lines spilled out, roughly getting across his point, albeit off-key.

Malfoy sniggered, then nearly screamed when that allowed him to start singing as well, insulting Harry in the process.

The Gryffindor turned angrily on the Slytherin, and sung, "Loathing! Unadulterated loathing!"

"For your face-" Malfoy sung off pitch.

"Your voice-" Harry snapped back.

"Your clothing!"

"Let's just say- I loathe it all! Ev'ry little trait, however small-" they sung together, glaring at each other with bright cheeks as the hallway quickly vacated.

"How long until the curse wears off?" Ginny asked curiously, wincing as Harry and Malfoy hit a horrible high note from a distance.

"Once they stop fighting for a day," Hermione replied.

"They're screwed."

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><p><em>Ron,<em>

_ SAVE ME!_

_ Malfoy and I were cursed by the new Transfiguration teacher to sing together. It took a week for it to wear off. It was horrible. _

_ Merlin. So, are you going to tell Hermione about that girl...?_

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><p><em> Dearest Mother,<em>

_ I absolutely loathe Harry Potter. I just went through the worst week of my life all thanks to him. Please say I can come home for the holidays- I don't think I can handle being around that lion any longer._

…_._

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><p>It was February, and Harry and Malfoy had come to a very tentative...not friendship, but non-total hatred.<p>

Of course, that meant Malfoy had to actually do something about Harry's wardrobe.

"Harry, you look like something that crawled out of a dumpster. Is this actually how muggles dress?"

"No."

"Then why do you-"

"Malfoy-"

Malfoy stood up straight, an evil grin on his face. "I know! Now that we can tolerate each other's presence, I will make it so you at least look somewhat presentable."

He easily ignored Harry's glare.

"You don't have to do that."

"I know!" Malfoy said. "Why would I pass up an opportunity like this?" He pulled out his wand and unlocked Harry's trunk. "After all, when one is so inferior compared to I, I should do something about it."

"Glad to see your ego is still intact," Harry muttered.

Malfoy ignored him. "Your case is a little severe, but I think we can fix it, at least until the next Hogsmeade trip." He waved all of Harry's clothes out of the trunk and fell over, pale.

"Merlin," he gasped, one hand on his chest.

"Are you seriously that offended by my clothing?" Harry said.

"Yes," Malfoy said in a breathy voice. "How do you_ live_ like this?"

It took two hours and several near fights, but Malfoy managed to sort out the mess that was Harry's clothes.

"I have to go," Harry said once Malfoy had finished. He all but sprinted from the room.

"You're welcome!"

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><p>The school year came to an end. As the eighth and seventh years prepared to leave Hogwarts via the little boats they had arrived in back in first year, Draco and Harry stared at each other with unreadable expressions.<p>

"Where are you going?" Harry asked.

"Oh, be more specific," Draco drawled.

Harry sent him a look. "How are you going to train to be a healer and potions master?"

"I'll most likely go to St. Mungos and enter a program."

Harry nodded, wrapping his cloak around himself against the cold Scottish wind.

"You'll be entering the Auror service, of course," Draco said.

Harry said, "Yes."

As Hagrid walked through the crowd, Draco and Harry realized this was it.

"I'll see you around?" Harry asked.

"Maybe," Draco replied. He stuck out his hand. Harry took it.

"No more than two to a boat!" Hagrid shouted.

Draco was pulled away by Millicent and Nott and Harry by Hermione and Neville.

Soon, they left the outline of Hogwarts far behind.

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><p>Reviews are lovely! So are favorites.<p> 


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